


but here I am with arms unfolding

by lunaticmeap



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ficlet, Holding Hands, Introspection, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24106885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaticmeap/pseuds/lunaticmeap
Summary: Then on the night that it happened, they gave him his father's helmet instead, and he cried until the morning light re-emerged. But Keith could barely see the light under his helmet. On a normal day, his dad would have taken it off him if he was still around, and replaced it with a kind hand over Keith's head.Keith supposed they would be cold; he wished they weren't.And Keith learnt from then, to not hold onto things too tightly.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Kudos: 17





	but here I am with arms unfolding

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, these new walls are pretty hard to crack  
> And it might take a while  
> Until I trust you on the tackle  
> I apologize, but it was only self defense  
> Running away just made sense.
> 
> But here I am with arms unfolding  
> I guess it isn't quite the end.
> 
> -[ dodie, _Arms Unfolding_](https://open.spotify.com/track/6AURpqbH7V45OwiyQBkgpW?si=8tgCh8akTQWXnw3_expmlg)

Keith learnt to not hold onto things too tightly, lest they are ripped from him. 

He held on tightly to the stuffed hippo that his father had gotten him, and that had been taken away from him by a bratty kid with snot still all over his nose and shirt. He tried getting it back. They threw the hippo into the nearby creek. 

Keith loved holding onto his father's hand, rough as they were against his own, but it was comforting, and it was loving.

Then on the night that it happened, they gave him his father's helmet instead, and he cried until the morning light re-emerged. But Keith could barely see the light under his helmet. On a normal day, his dad would have taken it off him if he was still around, and replaced it with a kind hand over Keith's head.

Keith supposed they would be cold; he wished they weren't. 

And Keith learnt from then, to not hold onto things too tightly. 

He didn't hold onto the well-wishes of adults he met when they offered nothing but empty sympathies. He didn't hold onto grudges and promises and friendships, because they were tiring and brought nothing but disappointments.He didn't hold onto any dreams, because dreams aren't realistic for someone like him. 

The few rare things he did hold onto was the dagger with the strange symbol, his father's will, and the fraying threads around his carefully constructed nonchalance towards life.

When Shiro came and offered him his hand, of course Keith knew better than to take it - and he didn't.

But Shiro was persistent. The first time Keith denied him a handshake, Shiro dropped his hand casually. Keith had just stolen the man's vehicle after all, and no one just casually let a delinquent go like that. There must have been motives.

The second time Keith didn't shake his hand, they were at the Garrison, and Shiro's knee-jerk reaction to greeting someone seemed to always be a handshake. But Keith's greetings were always either awkward nods or awkward waves. Shiro saved himself by pretending to scratch his head, and it made Keith laugh a little at his expense. 

There were no motives, Keith soon understood. 

The third time that Shiro offered his hand, Keith pondered for a bit. He had just punched James Griffin in the face, and yet Shiro was there with arms unfolding, willing to trust him, still.

And Keith took it. And he held on as if his dear life had depended on it.

Kerberos happened three years in. But unlike when his father died, Keith held on. He held onto every word and every shoulder touch. He held onto every hoverbike lesson in the desert. He held onto the hope and dreams and everything that Shiro had given him.

Because it wasn't fair that Shiro had given him everything, but Keith hasn't had the chance to give back yet. He hasn't had the chance to one day confidently give Shiro his hand and be the one to ask Shiro to hold on.

But in between everything that happened after, Keith never managed to ask him. 

He shielded him from gladiator bots, Galra attacks and rock monsters. He reassured Shiro that they would make it out alive. He promised to be Black Paladin if Shiro ever does decide to leave. But that wasn't what Keith really wanted to say or do. 

What he wanted to do was to simply take his hand and grip it tight. He wanted to entwine their fingers and wound the threads of the universe around them, so nothing could ever tear them apart again.

Yet, life is a funny thing. And Keith lost. Over, and over, and over. But even at the tip of Shiro's blade, he still couldn't let go. He still couldn't make himself believe that perhaps the feelings and memories he so desperately held onto were truly gone, not when Shiro was still alive and breathing and looking at him. 

It couldn't be gone.

_And it wasn’t._

And Shiro woke up to Keith's cry, asking him to stay.

Shiro woke up and tucked himself into Keith's embrace, whispering a quiet thank you. "You saved me."

Keith pulled him close and took his remaining hand, holding it tightly to his chest. "We saved each other."

It was easy, after that, to leave his palm on his thigh for Shiro to grasp beneath the table in a meeting. It was nice to open his arms and be embraced and feel the heat from the body enveloping him. It was intoxicating to consume and love and worship everything on Shiro's body, and to be consumed, loved and worshiped in turn.

At night after Keith managed to tuck himself into bed, he would reach out for the shadow in the dark. And from the shadows emerged a scarred but beautiful heart that loved him so fully that he was brimming with it.

Keith held on and never let go.

**Author's Note:**

> story title came from dodie's Arms Unfolding.
> 
> this is the edited version of first twitter fic thread (that exposes my hand kink yet again) and somehow it got more popular that these new story snippets i throw onto twitter (which actually take more time because it has plot) and im grateful but at the same time confused because idk? prettier words? less tiring to read because no plot? tell me!
> 
> anyway thanks for reading. leave a kudos or comments if you like! i reply to them (unless you comment '<3' or tell me not to).
> 
> hmu on [Tumblr](https://meapistrash.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/imbabyplzbekind)! I post new story snippets and also small random junk like this from time to time.


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